


Need

by Crysania



Series: Catatonic!Belle [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-13 01:22:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2131716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crysania/pseuds/Crysania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Repeatinglitanies prompted: When August sneaks in to the back of Gold’s shop while Henry distracts the pawnbroker, he comes face to face with a catatonic woman. Unfortunately, Henry was unable to distract Gold long enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Need

Everything has been set up. Maybe not perfectly, but it’s all at least been readied. August doesn’t know how exactly he’s ended up working with a 10-year-old child in this, but he’ll do anything… _anything_ …to get this damned curse broken. Even now he can feel the ache in his leg, the shifting of the molecules. If he pulls up the hem of his pants he’ll see the way his skin is slowly morphing.

He’s turning back into wood.

And the only thing that can stop it is _Emma_. But Emma doesn’t believe. He can’t get her to believe. He shows her the leg and she sees nothing but flesh and bone, exactly what she would _expect_ to see. But it’s not what’s there and the near-constant pain he’s living is a testament to that.

Henry believes though. _Cool_ , he remembers him saying. As if it’s cool that he’s in pain. As if it’s cool that he’s dying.

And Gold? He’s almost positive he remembers too.

He doesn’t know who created the curse. He knows who _cast_ it. That much is obvious by the way she struts around town, that same gloating look on her face as she watches her minions as she had in their world. But he suspects that the quiet and oh so rich Mr. Gold has had far more of a hand in this fiasco than most might think. He has no doubt of it. You see, August knows who he was in their world. He knows who they _all_ are, a product of his having come across on his own before the curse was cast.

Waiting just inside the door to the back of the shop, he’s relieved when he hears Henry address Gold and Gold moves away from the backroom. The distinctive thump of his cane and his uneven steps get slightly fainter as he speaks. “Good morning, Henry.”

That’s his cue. Gold is occupied and he can search. He needs proof. Proof that he knows who he is. Proof that he can _help._ If Gold knows that he’s actually Rumplestiltskin then perhaps he can heal him. His magic was powerful in their world and August needs that magic now. The Dragon was no use to him and now that the man is dead, he can’t be of any further use.

August slips into the backroom, eyes trained solely on the desk off to the side. The drawers are overflowing, unable to be shut properly. It’s his first thought, the first place he can think to find _anything_ that indicates Rumplestiltskin knows who he is and still has his power. He needs to find that dagger, the source of Rumplestiltskin’s power. He’s been told it’s here, somewhere in Storybrooke. If Gold knows who he is, he’ll have that dagger. And he’ll keep it close by. He knows he could search his house, but the shop is where he spends almost all of his time. If it’s anywhere, it’s there.

“What can I do for you?”

He hears Gold’s voice come from far too close to the curtain and hesitates. But then the man moves away again as Henry speaks and he breathes a sigh of relief. He rushes to the desk. He doesn’t have much time. He needs to look _now_.

He has to count on Henry, even if trusting in a young boy’s distraction techniques leaves much to be desired.

Every moment of shuffling through things on the desk leaves him unnerved. He hears things. A creak here, a small crack there. He’s trying to focus on the task at hand and Gold’s movements in the front of the shop and it’s _a lot_ to do at once. “Come on August,” he mutters. “Where’s that damned dagger?”

He moves around the desk, hoping for a safe or something he can crack open when he sees her. Sitting in a chair, there off to the side of the desk. He hadn’t noticed anything before, just a rocking chair facing away from the desk. But then he moves around it and there’s a _person_ there. Startled, he holds a hand to his chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone was back here.” He says the words quietly but notices no response from the woman.

Stepping closer, he realizes there’s something… _off_ …there. She’s not moving, her eyes staring straight ahead. He shifts forward and she doesn’t trace his movement with her eyes, doesn’t even seem to notice. She’s just… _there_. If he didn’t see her chest rise and fall, he wouldn’t have believed she was even alive.

And she is. He’s sure of that much. Alive and yet, not all there. He squats down in front of her. “Hey there.” She doesn’t respond. The writer in him, well, failed writer at any rate, wants to know her story. “You alright?” Still no response. He touches her hand and finds her cold.

“What are you doing?” Gold’s voice comes from behind him and he leaps to his feet, turns to face him. There’s a pinched look about the smaller man’s face, eyes narrowed, mouth pressed tightly together, a flash of _something_ in his eyes.

“I…”

There’s just a brief moment of _something_ and then Gold has his cane in his hand and despite the fact that Gold is several inches shorter than him and despite the fact that he probably outweighs Gold by at least 50 pounds, August backs up. The way the man bares his teeth makes him want to run for the door, dump his plans.

But he can’t.

“I’ll ask you only one more time,” Gold snarls at him and he sees that his hand is tight around the cane, knuckles white. “ _What_ are you doing?”

“Who is she, Gold?” He cannot stop the words from coming out of his mouth. It’s a common problem for him, really, shooting his mouth off without thinking.

“That did _not_ answer my question.” He raises the cane and almost takes a swing. August jumps back, hands up.

“What did you do to her?” He knows he’s treading on dangerous ground here. One wrong move and he may find himself at the bad end of that cane. He’s never seen someone look so fierce and despite the obvious injury, Gold presents a frightening picture at that moment.

“What did _I_ do?” Gold’s voice is pitched low, a whispered hiss full of bared teeth and snarling fury. “ _I_ did nothing.”

August starts to speak again and Gold actually takes a swing at him. He manages to get out of the way and the cane comes down close, far _too_ close, to his head. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Stay away from her!” Gold’s voice has risen in pitch and volume and August realizes he’s teetering on the edge of something. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t know what to say or do in that moment to diffuse the ticking bomb that Gold seems to be.

“I…”

With a cry of almost inhuman rage, Gold rushes forward and pushes him back. He’s strong, far stronger than August would have expected. Before he can even think he’s pinned to the ground, head colliding with the wall and bent in an awkward position. Gold’s on him and his cane is pressed against his throat. He can breathe, but barely.

“Stay. _Away_. From her.” Gold’s eyes are wide, the pupils strangely dilated. August remembers the rumors about him in their world. He had never set eyes on him there, but he knew about the reptilian eyes, the strange skin. He can well imagine that hiding somewhere beneath the surface of this man.

“Papa,” he manages to choke out. It’s a ruse, one he had hoped he didn’t have to use. But he had it in the back of his mind somewhere. He knew of Gold’s son. He knew he was searching for him.

“What did you say?” The pressure of the cane at his throat is released slightly. The cane still rests there but August can breathe again.

“Papa, please…”

The man crumbles at the words, the cane falling to the ground as he pulls August up into a tight embrace. “Baelfire?” Gold leans back and studies his face. “Is it really you?”

August nods but cannot meet his eyes. He’s afraid if he does he’ll admit the truth and be right back where he was a moment ago. Only worse. He’s sure the man will kill him if given half a chance.

“My boy,” Gold whispers and embraces him once more. “My beautiful boy.” He’s almost incoherent in his grief and for a moment, just a moment, August feels a slight pang of guilt over what he’s doing to him.

“You remember,” he says to him.

“I do. The curse…well, let’s just say it affected me but not for as long as other people.” August is more certain than ever that he created the curse. He knows who he is. And with knowledge comes power. And with power comes magic.

“Are you still…”

“The Dark One?” he says the words with a small flourish of his hand and an almost sad grin. “I am.”

“Your dagger then?” August asks and watches as Gold’s eyes narrow slightly. “It’s here?”

“It is.”

August only knows of the dagger, knows that he once chose that power over his son. He knows nothing else. He cannot begin to imagine what had happened to separate him from his son. But he knows he’s searching for him. That much has been passed down to him from sources he tries not to think too hard on.

“Then you have your power?”

Gold suddenly pushes back from him, picks up his cane, turns away. He doesn’t say anything for a moment. “Her name is Belle,” he finally manages to get out.

“What?” And then August realizes he’s referring to the woman who still sits in the chair, still has not moved despite their scuffle.

“Her,” Gold says and waves a hand at the woman. “She came to me as part of a deal, if you can believe it.”

“Like this?”

Gold lets out a snort of derisive laughter. “No. Not like this. She was…vibrant. She came to the dark castle of a monster and let the light in. She was _everything_ that I was not. She fell in love with me.” Here his mouth turns down and his eyes cloud over. “I don’t even know how son, but she did.”

August says nothing. He knows if he were truly this man’s son he would have _some_ words for him. Something to comfort him. Something to assure him that someone could truly love him. But he has none of that and so stays silent.

“The Queen cursed us all,” Gold continues with. “Yes son, even me, though I built in a bit of a fail-safe.” Here he offers up a bit of a smirk and August just nods. “She did the worst to Belle. Because she loves me. Because I love _her_.” August tries not to let his surprise show. If he talked to anyone in the Enchanted Forest, he was sure they would all agree that Rumplestiltskin was incapable of such a tender emotion.

“So this…”

“Is the result of the curse. I hope, at least. She spent time with our beloved Queen before the curse was enacted. I don’t know what happened to her there.” And August knows what he believes, that this is all she truly is now.

“The curse,” August mutters.

“Yes son?”

He tries not to cringe at the words. There’s something so hopeful in the way he speaks and he knows when he realizes his deception it’s not going to go well for him. He only hopes that he will be away from here, away from the shop, long before he realizes what he’s done. “I want your dagger.”

“Oh, Bae,” he whispers and August sees the broken man behind the hard façade. “I have it. You can have it. It’s meaningless without you. It’s meaningless without _her_.”

This wasn’t quite what he was expecting when he came here, so he nods. He can’t think of anything else to do. Gold steps away and moves with a strange efficiency to a picture on the wall. August expects magic at this point, but he simply pulls it open, moves the dial as anyone else would do, and opens the hidden safe.

A moment later the dagger is in Gold’s hand. It’s larger than August expected, dangerous. Gold holds it out in front of him as if it’s a living thing. And perhaps it is. Rumor has it that it’s the source of his power, that the _dagger_ is the true Dark One and Rumplestiltskin merely its servant. August takes a deep breath. This is what he wanted. He wanted the power over this man. He wanted him to heal him.

“Take it, Bae. Take it and do what you will with it.” He closes his eyes briefly and August sees the tears brimming in the corner of them. “I don’t need it anymore.” He rushes close to August and he has to do everything in his power to remain still as the man approaches. “I chose this once before, son. It was a mistake I’ve regretted ever since. Now I choose you.”

He hands it to him as if it’s a simple kitchen knife. Gold flips it around in his hand and holds the hilt out to August and suddenly he has the dagger in his hand and this is all he’s wanted. All he’s _needed_ for months, years, ever since he started to feel the pangs that told him _his_ curse was coming back into play.

He stares at it for a moment. It feels like a large dagger, but nothing else. Somehow he expected there to be something _more_ to it, or more than Rumplestiltskin’s name etched on it in fancy writing. He expected to feel _magic_ , feel something sing through his veins, knowing he could control someone with the mere power of his words.

He holds it aloft. He doesn’t really know _how_ one should hold the dagger, but that’s his first thought. Hold it high, above his head, far above Gold’s head. “Dark One, I command thee.” He feels ridiculous even as he speaks the word and the look on Gold’s face when they come out of his mouth is first one of confusion, then anger. He watches the other man’s eyes darken and his lips pull back into a snarl.

“You’re not my son.” And the words send a chill down August’s spine.

In less time than he has to think, the man is on him, cane pressing once more into his throat. This time he knows the man really means it. Before he wondered. Before he thought maybe, just maybe, he was his long lost son. Now he knows this isn’t true. With just a handful of words August has managed to screw the whole thing up.

“No,” he manages to choke out and Gold pushes harder on him. It’s hard to breathe, hard to speak.

“Why?” Gold’s voice has gone past anger, to some sort of high-pitched anguish. He’s never seen him like this, can’t have _imagined_ him like this. But he also knows the man has been searching centuries for his son.

August waves a hand rather ineffectually and Gold reaches over and grabs the dagger from him. It’s useless anyway he realizes now. There’s a _reason_ it felt like nothing more than a dagger, not the magical symbol of a man’s desperation for power. Here in Storybrooke there is little magic and what’s there is dying the longer Emma cannot see her way to breaking the curse.

August finally answers the question. “I’m turning back into wood.”

“ _Pinocchio_ ,” Gold says and his name sounds like a curse from his lips. August shudders. He can’t remember the last time he’s heard his real name. Not since his father sent him through the portal. It’s strange hearing it now. Strange and disconcerting, especially coming from Gold.

“Yes,” August replies with and as Gold pushes himself off him, releasing the pressure, August reaches down and pulls his pant leg up. Gold can see it. He knows he can. He doesn’t _believe_ , for believing is not required of one who lives it, one who _knows_.

Gold nods at him and turns away. “Get out.” The words are quiet and for a moment August does nothing, stunned.

“Get…”

“ _Out_ ,” Gold finishes for him. “ _Now_.”

“I don’t understand.”

Gold turns back to him, rounding on him. “Don’t you? My _son_?”

August has nothing to say to that and so stands, brushes himself off. He fooled him…for a moment. But it’s enough that Gold will never trust him again. “I need Emma to break this curse,” he finally manages to get out. “ _Please_.” He wonders if groveling will do him any good.

“Then _make_ her believe,” Gold snarls. “Now get out.” And he takes his cane and pushes August toward the door.

“I don’t understand…”

“Why I’m letting you live?” The words are said on a sneer. August can think of nothing to say. Perhaps he’s pressing his luck. Perhaps he should just turn tail and run. It’s what Gold expects. But curiosity has always been his downfall and it is right now again. “With you alive, you still have a chance to convince Miss Swan to break this damned curse.”

“Your curse,” he points out.

Gold gives a harsh bark of laughter. “ _My_ curse. And if she doesn’t, you’re going to die anyway. Probably in a much more agonizing way than I could conjure at the moment. Seems appropriate somehow doesn’t it? You were supposed to guard the savior after all, make sure she knew her job…”

“How did you…”

“I know everything, Mr. Booth.” Here he leans forward. “ _Everything_.”

August shudders. “And what about her?” He gives a small nod toward the woman who still sits in the chair, undisturbed despite their confrontation.

“She is not your concern.” The words are tight and August sees a muscle twitch in the man’s jaw.

“So you’re just going to leave her like that?”

For a moment Gold does not speak. “No,” he says, the words surprisingly quiet. “No I’m not. _You_ are going to convince Emma that this curse is real. And Emma is going to break the curse.” Here his voice turns soft. “And Belle is going to wake up.”

August starts to speak again, but falls silent. He doesn’t know what to say to that.

“Good day, Mr. Booth.”

He turns to leave, looking over his shoulder one last time to see Gold move closer to the woman in the chair, watches as he touches her shoulder, runs his hand lightly down her hair. And then he is out the door, no longer in the suffocating confines of the pawnshop. He has a job to do. Not just for him anymore, but for the woman in the chair as well.


End file.
